BYE BYE SHUGGIE

And another one bites the dust. Hugh Keevins, the Man Who Would Be Jabba, has retired. I actually saw this a few days ago on the internet, where it had mentioned that he had written his last piece for the Daily Record. I forgot to say anything about it here but I was pleasantly surprised that he had decided, unlike his erstwhile sports editor, to leave with a bit of quiet dignity and without leaving a bitter tirade for a swansong. I forgot, however, that he writes a weekly column for the Sunday Mail.

He decided yesterday to go out on a low. Although not quite in the same league as Jabba's farewell, he still managed to have a couple of nasty wee digs, especially at Celtic. "...if you’re reading this Peter and Neil, it was always business and nothing personal." That's funny; from what I remember it was entirely personal and completely unjustified. Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt and call it a senior moment.

Of course, he has to toe the usual line about how the game of football in Scotland is going down the drain. He wrote his first column for the Sunday Mail in 1997 when, according to Shug, everything was wonderful and "the game was vibrant." Really? He seems to forget that, even then, Hearts were in trouble. During the Nineties Wallace Mercer (remember him?) tried to implement a merger between the two Edinburgh clubs because both clubs were in financial trouble. We had the 'Hands of Hibs Campaign.'

It was also the time when the seeds were sown of Scottish football going into financial meltdown. The 'vibrancy' he talks about was all money-led and, as we now know, Rangers dominance was funded with other people's money and by downright fraud. All the other clubs almost ran themselves into the ground trying to keep up. Of course, Oor Shug, like all our other so-called sports journalists in Scotland, can't bring himself to state the truth. Rangers nearly brought Scottish football to its knees and now, with them out of the picture. all the clubs are trying to get back to normality and live within their means. Even though the 'Armageddon' they all prophesied would happen without Rangers failed to materialise, the likes of Shug just can't let it go. They can't even bring themselves to see the evidence right in front of their own eyes. The Big Lie takes precedence over everything!

Shug also has a wee go at Leigh Griffiths. He says nothing, however, about the bigoted and racist singing at the 'neutral venue' on Saturday. He does make passing reference to the singing of 'the bigots' but, as usual, this is in the spirit of 'both as bad as each other.' In fact, I was unaware of it, but I discovered yesterday that Keevins was one of the ones downplaying 'The Famine Song,' calling it banter and equating it with Celtic supporters remembering the Famine. Disgusting doesn't begin to describe it.

With all that's happened I've changed my mind from my initial, knee-jerk reaction to Leigh Griffiths's singing. There was no racism involved, just crass stupidity. This is in stark contrast to the sing-song at Ibrox, which, unfortunately, wasn't the first time this has happened with no condemnation.  Where was Vincent Lunny? Too busy trying to think of more charges he can throw at Leigh Griffiths!

When I was a teacher you constantly had to be aware that you were a role model. You had to hide the fact that you smoked, not doing it where the children might see you, and if you were going for a drink you had to make sure you were well away from where any parents might see you. If you've read The Crimes of Miss Jane Goldie you'll also know that going on holiday is a nightmare, as you're constantly worried in case your pupils turn up at the same resort, ruining any chance you have of letting your hair down.

Footballers are being held up these days as role models as well and being told to watch what they're doing. This, however, is hardly fair since footballers, with only a few exceptions, are not the brightest lights on the Christmas tree! I always remember at school the excuse for not doing homework, 'Ah wiz at trainin' fur the under-15 B team.' Such folk didn't bother to learn anything because they were 'gonnae bae fitba' playurs' when they left school. For most of them it was a delusion and you felt like shouting at them, 'You're in the B team, ya dick! Does that not tell you something?' Some of them, though, actually do make it, but that doesn't make them any less thick!

Like with all the bigots at Ibrox, education is the only answer. If the SFA expect professional football players to be role models, then they're going to have to teach them how. Legislation is useless when you're dealing with folk that are just not that bright. When teenagers are signed up to be developed by football teams, that's when the SFA should be stepping in with courses, teaching these teenagers what is expected of them in society, what is acceptable and what is not. Nobody wants to spoil a young man's fun, but they have to learn a bit of responsibility and discretion. How are they supposed to learn if nobody bothers to teach them? After all, I'm probably more intelligent than a lot of football players and yet I was taught about behaving as a role model at college, rather than having to figure it out for myself!

Meanwhile, Sooperally decided to have a go at his players for the defeat on Saturday. He seems unwilling to accept any responsibility, even though the buck ultimately stops with him. He signed these players. He supposedly coaches them, although when you watch them running about the field without a clue you wonder if they actually do any training. He also sends them onto the pitch without a decent plan to work to, if they're working to any kind of plan at all. Still, if you're raking in the highest wage in Scotland for producing this pish then you're laughing all the way to the bank.

When a team is losing a match it's normal to change one or two of the players and try a Plan B. Even before the substitute strips off, the manager will sit for ages, going over what the player is to do, and where. Fingers are pointed around the pitch and at a clipboard, the manager talks at length while the player nods his understanding. Finally, the numbers are held up and the new player runs onto the pitch, telling different team-mates what the new plan is and what different positions they are to take up. A Bisto substitute has to make do with a bit of paper shoved in his face and a quick pat on the arse from Kenny McDowell, while Sooperally stands around with his arms folded. Onwards and upwards, eh?

'Honest' Dave King is still trying to stir the shit, denouncing the Bisto board for revealing that he actually expressed his unwillingness to put his own money into the shambles. I don't know why he's so upset; it didn't take a genius to work that one out. Will the Bisto Kids still hand over their money now that this has come out? Probably. After all, Richard Gough told them to!

I saw something on twitter from Phil Mac about an emergency meeting of those connected at Bisto, Laxey, Margarita etc. It'll be interesting to see what's going on. Stay tuned to Phil' blog.

Finally, I had to laugh at somebody on McMurdo's blog, spouting the usual pish about 'Catholic conspiracies' and how The Peeppil are being marginalised. He says that it's time there was a political pary for the 'PUL (ie Orange) community'.  Doesn't he know that there's already one in existence? It's called the BNP.

"Eh? What? Ah cannae hear ye! Ah'm a bit deef, ye know! Bigoted singin'? Naw, Ah didnae hear a thing. Wait a minute...Ah kin hear somethin' noo! Thur's sumdy ten miles away in a bedroom singin' Roll of Honour."